Joy Divorced Luck Club on her nasty divorce and the first holiday season as a single Mom.
I thought of the man that I met six years ago, who couldn't rub two nickels together while he decided to launch a business. I thought of the man whose passenger side door handle of his beat up old car that came off in my hands at the end of one of our very first dates, and how endearing this was to me when he gave me this goofy grin of embarassment. The same man that tripped on the walk home from a restaurant and almost threw both of us to the ground. I thought of the man that put me on a pedestal, that made me his number one priority, that showered me with love and affection and promises of what a future together would hold. This was the same man that I decided to have a child with when I learned I became pregnant by taking less precautions and taking more of a stake in the power of love.
This became the same man that I happily supported when my career was thriving, when I was making more money than I thought I ever could in my early thirties. I watched him build his business with pride and affection when I became pregnant with our second child, choosing not to recognize his conscious choices, small at first, to put others before me, to keep me separate from other parts of his life-- his friends and his work, and then to watch in despair how numerous attempts to appeal to the man I fell love with who would not or could not see me anymore, and instead, continued to let me down, failed.
That was when I said yes to the affair.
I could not help thinking about all of the Christmases spent in this home, first with our newborn son, and soon after, our daughter with his extended family and friends. This year, I spent Christmas Day alone with my children and no matter how hard I tried, the pain and anger of it all sent me into a tailspin of depression. The icing on the cake was when I realized that I couldn't help my 4-year-old put together the g'damn Sponge Bob Lego Rocket. Whoever invented Legos is an evil person.
This New Year's Eve I decided to pray for the first time since G. left me in July. And it was not the Catholic upbringing palms pressed, rosary beads, on my knees begging God for something I thought I needed or wanted. It was a silent and peaceful request to forgive myself for my part in this process. And it was when I was brushing my teeth that evening, and looking in the bathroom mirror at the tired eyes that haven't stopped crying for months, and the drawn face marked with stress and worry about the future, that is when I sent my prayer to God for the New Year. "Give me the ability to come to terms with the fact that I am alone, and give me the strength to take care of my children and a full time job and a house I don't know if I can afford anymore. Give me strength during this vicious legal battle. And God, please let me forgive myself too. I want to be happy." And for the first time that night, in almost six months, I slept like a baby while 2008 gently entered my life."
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